


No More Regrets

by sheiruki



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst I guess, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, College of Winterhold - Freeform, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Savos needs a hug goddamnit, can be read as romantic or platonic, labyrinthian, spoilers for the College of Winterhold questline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 00:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheiruki/pseuds/sheiruki
Summary: Many years have passed since that fateful expedition to Labyrinthian and now that the Eye of Magnus has been brought to the college, memories haunt Archmage Savos Aren more than ever.





	No More Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my documents folder since 2016, until a recent exchange over on tumblr reminded me of its existence. So far it’s the only completed ff I’ve ever written. There are some minor changes from the Tumblr version. Also, I’m German, so beware of way too many commas. 
> 
> Can theoretically be read as Savos/Mirabelle or Savos&Mirabelle, whichever you prefer. Rated M to be on the safe side.
> 
> Enjoy!

They were going to die, that much was certain. Three were still left. Three. Out of six. The ruin had swallowed them all, one by one. Who was going to be be next?None of them dared to ask, but the question lingered in the back of their minds nevertheless.

Would it be Hafnar?  
The Nord with his fiery spirit and hearty, contagious laugh? He was breathing heavily, his knuckles white around his favourite frost staff. He had long since run out of magicka and his blood was staining the ground with every step. When was he going to fall? 

Or would it be the lovely Redguard woman?  
Atmah, the archmage’s brightest, Savos’ friend and rival whose wit and skill even outmatched his own? Her eyes were wet as she tried to keep herself from crying, whether it was because of the gaping gash in her leg or the sheer hopelessness of their situation, Savos could not tell. Somewhere, deep down, he hoped it would be him. The last thing he wanted was to see his remaining friends die.  
Then again, he was the least injured of the three. 

They kept moving forward, down another cold corridor and another eroded staircase. The flood of fiends had receded and left nothing but an overbearing silence. At last, they reached a large wooden door. This was it. Whatever horror was waiting for them on the other side would end their ill-fated journey. And their lives. Judging by the looks on his friends’ faces, they all agreed on that. Savos shot his friends a confident smile, trying to cheer them up, only to be met with defeat and emptiness. 

“We can still make it! We’ve come this far now isn’t the time to give up.”

He could not believe what he was saying. Here they were, doomed to die because he had insisted on moving forward. And here he was again, and again he kept pushing.  
He did not know why. Did he just want this nightmare to be over? Did he want to give them hope? And in case of the latter, why, oh why, was it not working? Together they opened the old, heavy door, ready to face the end. It creaked and scraped across the ground, leaving tiny splinters of rotten wood behind. Once there was enough room they slipped through. First Hafnar, then Savos and Atmah. This chamber was a lot larger than the others. The majority of it consisted of a massive tribune, reminiscent of an ancient nordic temple. A narrow subterranean stream bled into the chamber, dampening the stale air and Savos was certain that there must be a hole in the ceiling somewhere, for stray rays of pale sunlight illuminated the chamber. The room seemed to be completely empty, much to their surprise. Maybe they stood a chance after all. The three carefully looked around, searching for traps or other deadly obstacles. After finding nothing, they climbed up the stairs leading up the emporium and towards a faint breeze of fresh air and, hopefully, much desired freedom.

“Did you hear that?”, Atmah asked.

The others turned to face her.

“Hear what? I didn’t hear anything. Hafnar, did you hear something?”

“Well I-”

Savos placed a finger on Hafnar’s lips.

This time he heard it too. Like knocking, somewhere on the other side of the room.

“Savos?”

The nord’s muffled voice was lost on him. His gaze wandered over to Atmah, who slowly turned to him, fear visible in her eyes.

“There’s nothing there. Maybe these walls are simply beginning to crumble. I’m sure there’s-”

The shattering of stone shook the very ground and for a short moment, Savos thought the entire room would come crashing down upon them. All three now fixed their eyes on the opposite end of the tribune where the lid of a sarcophagus had burst open, and an undead, different from the rest, rose from its ancient slumber. Its withered body was floating above the ground and the robes it wore, once beautiful, regal even, were hanging from the lich’s frame in tatters. Its face was covered by a strange, ghostly blue metal mask that shimmered in the pale light of the chamber. The staff the creature held in its hand radiated energy stronger than any they had ever encountered before. 

Savos felt the hairs on his neck rise and tried to swallow the massive knot that had formed in his throat. This was going to be a tough fight, that much was certain.  
Should they even try? Perhaps it was easier to resign to their fate? 

Savos was ripped from his thoughts as Atmah hurled a massive fireball at the fiend, the explosion shaking and cracking the walls. When the smoke cleared the beast stood there, unfazed and unburnt.  
Quickly, Savos summoned a flame atronach to help them out but to his surprise, it did not attack the lich. To his horror, it aimed a firebolt directly at him. Savos wanted to run away but his feet would not let him. He desperately wanted to cast a ward, but all his magical knowledge seemed to have evaporated. Savos closed his eyes and waited for the fire to consume him.  
It would all be over soon.

...but the end did not come.

“Are you alright?”

As he opened his eyes he saw the remnants of his fiery servant lying on the ground. One of Hafnar’s ice spears was firmly plunged into its core.

“I-I think so. Thank you,” was all he managed to get out before-. 

“Hafnar! Get down!”, he screamed as lightning filled the room.

When his vision cleared Hafnar was gone. He panicked and looked around until he eventually found his friend shattered against the stone behind him. A trail of red splotches marked the spots where his head had met the ground. Was he dead? When Savos moved closer he could see the Nord’s chest rise and fall. He ran up to his injured friend. 

An ear piercing scream filled the chamber. 

Savos prayed that Atmah had somehow survived whatever the thing had done to her. For now he needed to focus on his wounded friend, a healing spell glowing brightly against his shaky grey hands.  
His heart beat faster and faster. The world around him was but a faint shadow in the corners of his eyes, forgotten and uncared for. Savos grit his teeth. His hands burned with magicka as the glow of the spell grew brighter.

“Hang on, dammit!”

But the blood kept flowing out of the slowly closing wound. Too slowly.  
A pain filled moan from the other side of the room brought Savos back to reality. So Atmah was not dead. Now he had to make a decision. His healing magic was not sufficient to save the Nord, even though he was clinging to life like a starving man to a piece of bread. If Atmah was still alive, maybe he could save her at least. 

Or maybe he could… 

A wicked idea raised its ugly head. No, they were going to die here, together. He abandoned his efforts, got up, and sprinted across the massive chamber as fast as his feet allowed, before stopping dead in his tracks. Atmah’s body lay motionless. Her limbs were contorted in unnatural ways and her skin and hair were scorched, but still, she was breathing. Still alive. Before her, on the other side of the podium, stood the undead mage, the staff in his hand pointed at Savos, radiating and pulsating with energy.

He froze. Fear overtook him as he sensed the bright light and crackling of electricity. He wanted to scream as the lightning struck but found himself paralyzed as the shocks went through his body.  
All he could feel was excruciating pain. 

And the soul trap spell leaving his fingertips.

Then, all was gone. The ruin, the monster, his friends. All gone. Replaced by the ceiling of the Archmage’s quarters. His quarters. Savos sat up in his bed. The sheets and his skin was covered in cold sweat. He began rubbing the sleep from his eyes as if to clear his mind of the dream, no, memory. 

“Another nightmare...”, he mumbled, not sure if he was really awake. Maybe he had actually died that day.

He needed to distract himself somehow and got up, slowly, feeling as though his stomach was going to turn over at any minute. The temptation to open his potion cabinet and drink one that granted a dreamless sleep was strong, but he knew the risks that came with taking these potions over a long period of time. No, he would not tempt his fate today. 

Perhaps, he figured, a nightly stroll would do him good instead.  
He put on a warm, comfortable robe with fur stuffing and thick fur boots and wrapped himself into an equally warm fur cloak. He still felt cold.

He opened the door and stepped outside.

The freezing night air was a fist to the face and the archmage instantly regretted his decision. Granted Winterhold was never particularly warm, but at night the cold was something else entirely.  
Dry and cutting and seeping into every pore poor enough to be left uncovered. He envied his students sleeping soundly in the comfort of their beds. No sane person would willingly be outside at this hour and so, the ramparts were deserted. Savos began to pace. At this time the college always seemed so peaceful. The accidents, the constant infighting, the hostility from outside... it all seemed so far away. He stopped to look at the courtyard beneath and remembered the days of old. Groups of students carrying books and other research material would hurry to their classes, others would stay outside practicing their spells and some would follow some... less honourable activities. Savos closed his eyes and sighed. Where had all the years gone?

Metallic creaking ripped him out of his thoughts. Startled, he turned around and narrowed his eyes. Someone was there at the telescope. Savos’ hands lit up with fire. 

“Who’s there?”, he called out. 

He could barely see a silhouette in the dark. It was a woman. Small, petite. No, it could not be. Could it? 

“Archmage? What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” 

“I could ask you the same, _Master Wizard_”, he could almost feel his assistant rolling her eyes at the mention of her title. __

_ _“I’m watching the constellations and writing down their current positions so I can relate them to possible shifts in spell potency. It would be a shame to waste a clear night such as this. Especially when leading a college takes up all the time I could spend on my own research”; she shot him a sly smile “Now, Savos, your turn.”_ _

_ _“I simply couldn’t sleep. Sorry if my explanation is disappointing, my dear Mirabelle”, he let out a tired chuckle and moved closer. He could make out the Breton’s shoulder length brown hair, her slightly torn college robes and even the deep creases on her forehead. Surely all the recent trouble had gotten to her as well._ _

_ _“You look awfully pale. Are you ill? Or is something troubling you?”, she asked. _ _

_ _Was he really this easy to read? _ _

_ _“No, I…”, he stopped mid-sentence. He was not fine. He knew it. And he knew she also knew it._ _

_ _“I suppose there’s indeed something that’s been haunting me for a while now.”  
He looked around aimlessly as if to search for the right words to say, his mind drifting to a place and time far away._ _

_ _“You see, long before I became the archmage of the college -I was only a student back then- a group of friends and I did something incredibly foolish.”_ _

_ _He hesitated. Should he really tell her? _ _

_ _“Savos? What happened back then?”_ _

_ _“I am sure you’ve heard of Bromjunaar; The famous city where archmage Shalidor built his maze, which has since become the namesake of the place”, he shuffled uncomfortably. “We…”_ _

_ _“You went there, I know. It’s a testing ground for future archmages, isn’t it? Isn’t that why they named you archmage? Because you made it through? ”_ _

_ _“Yes - No, not entirely. I never entered the maze, you see. My friends and I ventured into the city instead. And what we found there…”, Savos took a deep breath.  
“We wanted to find treasures and knowledge, but we only found pain and despair. We were young and thought ourselves invincible. But we weren’t.” , he stared down at his feet. _ _

_ _“So, these friends of yours, they’re-”, she spoke quietly, her tone betraying her carefully composed expression._ _

_ _“Yes.”_ _

_ _It was a whisper at best and Savos was surprised she had actually heard him. Mirabelle looked at him but Savos kept averting her gaze. She reached out and pulled him closer until his head was resting on her shoulder. _ _

_ _“It was I who kept pushing them forward even as they were picked off one by one. It could have ended so much sooner had I not been so stubborn.”, he paused before switching the subject.  
“When there were only three of us left we encountered a being within that ruin, Mirabelle. An undead unlike any I had ever seen before. And far more powerful. Even our strongest spells couldn’t harm it. It killed Hafnar and Atmah and there was nothing I could do to help them”_ _

_ _He nuzzled his head deeper into into the comfortable shoulder. He did not want his Master Wizard to see the tears forming in his eyes. They stood there for what felt like an eternity until Savos barely broke the silence. _ _

_ _“I too should have died that day, Mirabelle.”_ _

_ _Another eternity passed as he awaited her response. He felt her hands grasping his shoulders before she abruptly pushed him away, but firmly kept holding onto them. Perplexed, Savos was forced to look up. She was staring at him, her brows furrowed into a frown that accentuated the already existing marks._ _

_ _“But you didn’t and now you’re here. What are you going to do about it? Jump off the ramparts? Savos, even you can’t turn back time.” she sounded determined, perhaps even a bit angry. “I know it’s hard, it’s been hard on you for a long time, did you really think I hadn’t noticed? However, no amount of regret will bring back the dead. The best you can do now is making sure no one ever makes the same mistakes.” _ _

_ _“But I-”_ _

_ _“I’ve had enough of your self-pity, Archmage!”_ _

_ _He stared at her in shock. Such outbursts were nothing like the calm, collected assistant he knew -or thought he knew-. But she had a point. What was done was done and -more importantly- he was the archmage. He still had a college to lead! Back then he had sworn there would be no more untimely deaths, and yet, how many students had fallen to a carelessly thrown fireball? An unstable familiar? A slip on the bridge? No, from now on he was going to keep that oath._ _

_ _She had to have noticed his confusion and added: ”Come, since you’re not going back to sleep anyway, lend me a hand with my research. It’ll get your mind off of things.”_ _

_ _Before he could respond she shoved a piece of parchment and a quill into his hands. “I’ll tell you what I see and you’ll write everything down.” For a moment Savos wanted to protest but then proceeded to diligently write down every little detail his assistant told him. She had been right again. The work was at least distracting, if nothing else._ _

_ _When the first rays of sunshine rose above the horizon, the two of them, tired and half-frozen, gathered their material, ready to face whatever challenges the new day might bring._ _

_ _“Mirabelle?”, the archmage began while picking up an empty inkpot._ _

_ _“Yes? What is it?”_ _

_ _“Thank you for listening to me. So many years, the memories of what happened were dragging me down. I...I feel so much more at ease now, knowing there is someone I can confide in, if necessary. ”_ _

_ _“You’re welcome to stop by whenever you need to, old friend.”_ _

_ _“Well, not to seem needy, but I would take on that offer this afternoon. I have something for the dragonborn. He’ll know what to do with it when the time is right.”_ _

_ _For a moment Savos wondered if Mirabelle had any suspicions regarding his mysterious gift but if so, she kept them masterfully hidden behind her professional facade._ _

_ _“And why exactly aren’t you going to give him this present yourself?”_ _

_ _“You are the Master-Wizard and _so_ much more experienced when it comes to the college’s day-to-day activities”, he smiled and walked away, feeling Mirabelle roll her eyes in annoyance.___ _

Maybe the dragonborn can finish what I started.__

_ _ _ _ _ _ _Maybe he can lay my greatest mistake to rest.___ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> The cliché title; a song by Arch Enemy which features some fitting lyrics because I couldn't come up with anything more creative.  
I’m not too proud of this, but given the lack of content for the Savos tag I decided I might as well upload it. Who knows, maybe it’ll make one of the five or so Savos stans happy.


End file.
